We arrived at the town hall where the ceremony was to occur and were met by the celebrant and the ushers (Gran and GrandPaul). GrandPaul informed me that BallFiend was sound asleep on the floor at the back of the room; he then raced off back upstairs to take his seat. I thought I must have misheard. I had left a carefully written running sheet for DeepSpice to follow on wedding morn. Including, that BallFiend was to be put into his cot for a nap at midday, woken at 2.00 pm and dressed and out the door by 2.30 pm. But no time to ponder GrandPaul's cryptic message now... it was time to go!
The ceremony was held in a smaller chamber of the town hall... a room that look like it had probably once been a court. It had an imposing dark timber balustrade at the front and behind this was a large leather chair for the judge with an imposing dark timber canopy. The ceremony commenced with DesignerSis being first down the aisle, followed by me, then MissJo, and finally CutLuce on the arm of StompyDad. A very nervous-looking DesignerMonkey watched from the front of the room. Despite telling the make-up artist that I wouldn't cry so wasn't worried about mascara running, I felt tears well up in my eyes as the bride came down the aisle. She looked beautiful, excited, very happy - beaming from ear to ear - and not at all nervous.
During the ceremony, I snuck a few looks around the room at all the family and friends. I couldn't see BallFiend anywhere - asleep or otherwise. I hadn't seen my boy for nearly 24 hours - I was missing him lots and looking forward to seeing him again. But being 'on stage' at my sister's wedding was not the time to ask so I had to defer my curiosity about what-on-earth DeepSpice had done with BallFiend.
After a lovely ceremony, there was a pause while the marriage certificate was signed and lots of photos taken. I took the much-needed opportunity to sit down next to DeepSpice and the celebrant brought me a glass of water. I asked Deepspice where BallFiend was and DeepSpice gestured to another balustrade at the back of the room. "He's asleep on the floor behind there". I was astounded - how could he sleep though all this? Apparently he had refused to nap, had a massive tantrum when DeepSpice was trying to get him dressed, then fell asleep in the car on the way to the town hall. DeepSpice carried BallFiend in, still asleep, and there he stayed. Clearly my concerns that a toddler with jam-laden fingers, excited at the first sight of his mum after 24 hours, would come tearing up to hug me were unfounded.
With the marriage certificate signed, the celebrant formally closed the ceremony by presenting the certificate to the happy couple and instructing DesignerMonkey to "kiss the bride". Then the bride and groom left the room to "Love Me Do" by The Beatles. (As predicted by all three of us sisters, StompyDad was heard to say "Oh, I know this song (long pause), it's The Beatles!")
I spotted BallFiend as we exited the room. Sure enough, he was soundly asleep on the floor, having slept through the entire ceremony. I tried to rouse him, which took a good 10 minutes, and was eventually rewarded with a super-grumpy, disoriented toddler who was not at all excited to see me.
Then the post-wedding madness hit - family and friends wanting to talk, hug and kiss and the photographers trying to gather everyone together for group photos. BallFiend was brought along, grizzling, in DeepSpice's arms, all the time saying 'no photos'. After the large group photos, BallFiend had some snacks and immediately his mood improved. Suddenly he was excited and running amok, exploring the large open foyer of the town hall.
Weariness was setting in. I really wanted to sit down and spend a few moments with my boy before DeepSpice had to cart him off to meet VoluableK (who had kindly offered to mind BallFiend overnight for us). But no rest of the tired, sick, pregnant, brideslave - I was dragged along with the rest of the bridal party for photos in more aesthetically interesting parts of the building. On the positive side, BallFiend's improved mood meant that CutLuce was finally able to have a few nice, happy photos taken with her nephew. Then DeepSpice whisked BallFiend away and after a few more photos outside in front of the Cadillacs, I was whisked away with the rest of the bridal party to the reception venue.
Showing posts with label Miss Jo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miss Jo. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Wedding of the FULK, Part 2 - Wedding Day morn
Wedding Day arrived. CutLuce was up at 6.30 am and flushed the loo which was very loud through the paper-thin walls, and thus I was awake too, and still totally exhausted. I definitely don't recommend being a sick, pregnant brideslave. Breakfast was fairly lesuirely, and I after eating I wandered down to a local florist to get some flowers for the bride - pink lilies and yellow roses.
Then, from 10.30 am it was all go, go, go. The hair and make-up people arrived, and the long and involved process of disguising our natural beauty behind a facade of socially-accoladed, artificially-enhanced beauty began. I was suffering from waves of nausea due to the antibiotics and pregnancy-induced heartburn but did my best to remain cheerful for the sake of the bride. Sadly, it was the bride looking after me, bringing cups of tea, rather than the other way around.
Eventually we were all dolled up, my nausea started to abate (with the aid of an antacid tablet), my heartburn stared to abate (with the aid of frequent sips of milk), wedding bouquets arrived, the chauffeured wedding cars (three 1959 red Cadillacs) appeared out the front and an air of excitement spread through the room. We brideslaves zipped CutLuce into her wedding dress and tried to stay out of the way of the photographer as she captured this important moment. StompyDad arrived to escort the bride and was very impressed with the wedding dress ("stunning!").
At 3.00 pm, we hopped into the Cadillacs and drove slowly to the ceremony venue. I travelled with DesignerSis in the sedan, while CutLuce, StompyDad and MissJo (the other brideslave) travelled in the convertible. The groom and "boys" had left earlier in a two-door Cadillac so that they could be made to stand nervously at the front awaiting the grand entrance of the bride.
I was amazed at how much I enjoyed the ride. Prior to the wedding, when CutLuce was becoming concerned about the cost of the wedding, I had suggested cutting out the cars and just getting family members to drive the bridal party in their own cars. But DesignerMonkey really wanted the cars, so they stayed. It was a really nice treat. Especially for StompyDad, who always used to carry on about Elvis and Cadillacs when we were kids... and that's another story.
Then, from 10.30 am it was all go, go, go. The hair and make-up people arrived, and the long and involved process of disguising our natural beauty behind a facade of socially-accoladed, artificially-enhanced beauty began. I was suffering from waves of nausea due to the antibiotics and pregnancy-induced heartburn but did my best to remain cheerful for the sake of the bride. Sadly, it was the bride looking after me, bringing cups of tea, rather than the other way around.
Eventually we were all dolled up, my nausea started to abate (with the aid of an antacid tablet), my heartburn stared to abate (with the aid of frequent sips of milk), wedding bouquets arrived, the chauffeured wedding cars (three 1959 red Cadillacs) appeared out the front and an air of excitement spread through the room. We brideslaves zipped CutLuce into her wedding dress and tried to stay out of the way of the photographer as she captured this important moment. StompyDad arrived to escort the bride and was very impressed with the wedding dress ("stunning!").
At 3.00 pm, we hopped into the Cadillacs and drove slowly to the ceremony venue. I travelled with DesignerSis in the sedan, while CutLuce, StompyDad and MissJo (the other brideslave) travelled in the convertible. The groom and "boys" had left earlier in a two-door Cadillac so that they could be made to stand nervously at the front awaiting the grand entrance of the bride.
I was amazed at how much I enjoyed the ride. Prior to the wedding, when CutLuce was becoming concerned about the cost of the wedding, I had suggested cutting out the cars and just getting family members to drive the bridal party in their own cars. But DesignerMonkey really wanted the cars, so they stayed. It was a really nice treat. Especially for StompyDad, who always used to carry on about Elvis and Cadillacs when we were kids... and that's another story.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
The Hens Night
Saturday night was "the Hens" - that all important ritual in the wedding preparation when a bride is taken out on the town to get up to all kinds of mischief. As far as hens nights go, I think this one was quite tame and tasteful. But having never been to another one, I have nothing to compare it with.
My evening began at my house with CutLuce and Miss Jo arriving around 5 pm so we could head out together (I got to be the designated driver because of the whole not-drinking-when-pregnant thing). I was happy to take a tram but Miss Jo had access to free parking in the city so talked me into driving. (In hindsight I think the tram would have been much easier than driving in the City on a Saturday night, and would have taken half the travel time. Here endeth Lesson One.)
We started off at a venue with a groovy little bar for cocktails, then went into their restaurant area for a set-menu dinner. I had a 'mocktail' and watched everyone else drink their fancy cocktails... except for our Hen, who played it safe and went with bubbles. Dinner choices included Barramundi, Chicken, Lamb Shanks or a vegetarian risotto. Everyone had Barra, except myself and DesignerSis who had Chicken and one other in the party who had the Lamb. All meals were beautifully presented and rather tasty. (Although the chicken was not served with any vegies, just lentils. Not the best thing to be digesting later in the evening when one is out in public. Here endeth Lesson Two.)
In keeping with the custom of making a hen wear a ridiculous costume and perform silly tasks, during dinner, our Hen was progressively kitted out in her outfit for the evening:
Our pimp-of-the-night was christened 'Juicy Mama Lucy' and given the task of selling off all the girls in the hen's party over the course of the night (Hell Money provided as part of the costume to ensure that willing purchasers of our services would have access to loans should they require it). She started out by giving everyone their working girl names while we tucked into our dessert (a choice of pannacotta,very very rich chocolate tart, or affogato). Then, the first 'sale' of the evening was made to a 'gentleman' at the next table.
Around 10 pm, left the restaurant for our next stop: a karaoke joint. As we were leaving the bar, a few more girls were sold off to a bouncer and various passers-by.
DesignerSis and her sister-outlaw and I went to get the car and drive it up closer to the karaoke venue, The walk back to the car was only 2 blocks, but I was very glad to change out of my low heels and into flat shoes at this point. The rest of our party walked to the karaoke venue (5 blocks in their high heels!). Here endeth Lesson Three.
Finding a new parking spot at the northern end of the City was looking impossible and we had just about given up when DesignerSis spotted a great park in what is a loading zone during the day. We only had to walk about a block-and-a-half to the karaoke place and found the others waiting in the foyer for our private room to be cleaned. About 10 minutes later we were ushered upstairs, past boxy room after boxy room, the muffled sounds of karaoke music wafting through the air. The whole place reminded me of band rehearsal studios, but full of asian karaoke enthusiasts instead of metal-head guitarists and sleazy drummers. I noticed a sign on the wall "you are responsible for cleaning up any vomit in your room" and my sense of impending doom increased.
Our room had couches around the sides, coffee tables in the middle, a wall-mounted projector, four microphones and a computer in the corner for song-selection. The first round of drinks was ordered -- a few bottles of bubbles, and a lemonade for me -- and the singing and dancing began. The rest of the party continued along similar lines, with a series of smokers coming and going every few songs and a funny interlude when CutLuce was ordered to go to another room and convince a man to come in and join us for a song. She succeeded in dragging 'Fred' back into our room where he obliged with a sexy dance.
Around 11.30 pm, I stepped out for a toilet break and to phone DeepSpice and see how he was going. I was desperately tired at this point and just wanted to go home, but felt that I should stay in case anyone needed driving home.
An hour and a half into our two-hour booking, I was told to make sure I kept ordering drinks as the drinks are included in the room booking. It was at this point I realised just how much the place charges: $460 for the room for 2 hours and this included a $300 drinks tab. Sure, the prices of the drinks were ridiculously expensive (like $40 for a bottle of Australian sparking wine that would probably be $12 in a bottle shop), but even so, for 10 or 12 women to drink their way through a tab of that size is physiologically impossible! Apart from being a rip-off, it was very disheartening to see a venue encouraging binge drinking in this way.
At 12.30 pm, a final round of drinks arrived (Midori and lemonade) and our time was up. CutLuce, Miss Jo and some others decided to go back to one of their homes and continue the night's festivities, so I was relieved of my chauffeuring duties. DesignerSis and her sister-out-law walked back to my car with me and I drove them to a location where they could flag a cab home. I was suddenly a little glad that I was driving. Cabs on a Saturday night can be hard to come by. Here endeth Lesson Four.
The drive home was 'eventful'. As I left the City and got into the 'burbs nearer home, I nearly ran down two very drunk guys who suddenly ran out across the road, leaving a brothel on one side and heading to a pub on the other. A large crowd of men were gathered on either side of the road -- either cheering them on or trying to pick a fight, I am not sure which. A few blocks further along, I saw a large crowd of drunken teenagers hanging around out the front of a non-descript shop front. Not sure what kind of party had been going on in there, but there were teenagers everywhere fighting, dancing, snogging and nearly falling onto the road. The drive home was really quite scary and I suddenly got a real sense of what police are talking about in recent media coverage of alcohol-related violence in the City at night.
I arrived home about 1.10 pm and found DeepSpice was still up, watching some old war movie whilst making his guitar effects pedals. Once in bed, I was too wired up to go straight to sleep (probably all that sugary soft drink), so I read for a while and then lay in the dark tossing and turning till about 3 am when I finally drifted off. I was awake again at 5.30 am when BallFiend started crying out for his dummy. Thankfully DeepSpice attended to this so I was able to sleep a bit more. Sometime around 7.30 am, BallFiend woke up and once again DeepSpice did the hard yards, getting BallFiend up, fed, dressed and keeping him entertained until I staggered out of bed at about 9.30 am.
Sunday was a complete write-off as I was too tired to do anything. I napped again at about 11.30 am, then again at about 3 pm. Finally around 5 pm I started to feel a bit more 'with it' and managed to stay up for dinner and a little TV before going to bed again.
Next weekend is the Bucks Night for DesignerMonkey. I can only hope that DeepSpice has a less exhausting time of it than my experience... though I suppose not being pregnant will be a bonus.
My evening began at my house with CutLuce and Miss Jo arriving around 5 pm so we could head out together (I got to be the designated driver because of the whole not-drinking-when-pregnant thing). I was happy to take a tram but Miss Jo had access to free parking in the city so talked me into driving. (In hindsight I think the tram would have been much easier than driving in the City on a Saturday night, and would have taken half the travel time. Here endeth Lesson One.)
We started off at a venue with a groovy little bar for cocktails, then went into their restaurant area for a set-menu dinner. I had a 'mocktail' and watched everyone else drink their fancy cocktails... except for our Hen, who played it safe and went with bubbles. Dinner choices included Barramundi, Chicken, Lamb Shanks or a vegetarian risotto. Everyone had Barra, except myself and DesignerSis who had Chicken and one other in the party who had the Lamb. All meals were beautifully presented and rather tasty. (Although the chicken was not served with any vegies, just lentils. Not the best thing to be digesting later in the evening when one is out in public. Here endeth Lesson Two.)
In keeping with the custom of making a hen wear a ridiculous costume and perform silly tasks, during dinner, our Hen was progressively kitted out in her outfit for the evening:
Our pimp-of-the-night was christened 'Juicy Mama Lucy' and given the task of selling off all the girls in the hen's party over the course of the night (Hell Money provided as part of the costume to ensure that willing purchasers of our services would have access to loans should they require it). She started out by giving everyone their working girl names while we tucked into our dessert (a choice of pannacotta,very very rich chocolate tart, or affogato). Then, the first 'sale' of the evening was made to a 'gentleman' at the next table.Around 10 pm, left the restaurant for our next stop: a karaoke joint. As we were leaving the bar, a few more girls were sold off to a bouncer and various passers-by.
DesignerSis and her sister-outlaw and I went to get the car and drive it up closer to the karaoke venue, The walk back to the car was only 2 blocks, but I was very glad to change out of my low heels and into flat shoes at this point. The rest of our party walked to the karaoke venue (5 blocks in their high heels!). Here endeth Lesson Three.
Finding a new parking spot at the northern end of the City was looking impossible and we had just about given up when DesignerSis spotted a great park in what is a loading zone during the day. We only had to walk about a block-and-a-half to the karaoke place and found the others waiting in the foyer for our private room to be cleaned. About 10 minutes later we were ushered upstairs, past boxy room after boxy room, the muffled sounds of karaoke music wafting through the air. The whole place reminded me of band rehearsal studios, but full of asian karaoke enthusiasts instead of metal-head guitarists and sleazy drummers. I noticed a sign on the wall "you are responsible for cleaning up any vomit in your room" and my sense of impending doom increased.
Our room had couches around the sides, coffee tables in the middle, a wall-mounted projector, four microphones and a computer in the corner for song-selection. The first round of drinks was ordered -- a few bottles of bubbles, and a lemonade for me -- and the singing and dancing began. The rest of the party continued along similar lines, with a series of smokers coming and going every few songs and a funny interlude when CutLuce was ordered to go to another room and convince a man to come in and join us for a song. She succeeded in dragging 'Fred' back into our room where he obliged with a sexy dance.
Around 11.30 pm, I stepped out for a toilet break and to phone DeepSpice and see how he was going. I was desperately tired at this point and just wanted to go home, but felt that I should stay in case anyone needed driving home.
An hour and a half into our two-hour booking, I was told to make sure I kept ordering drinks as the drinks are included in the room booking. It was at this point I realised just how much the place charges: $460 for the room for 2 hours and this included a $300 drinks tab. Sure, the prices of the drinks were ridiculously expensive (like $40 for a bottle of Australian sparking wine that would probably be $12 in a bottle shop), but even so, for 10 or 12 women to drink their way through a tab of that size is physiologically impossible! Apart from being a rip-off, it was very disheartening to see a venue encouraging binge drinking in this way.
At 12.30 pm, a final round of drinks arrived (Midori and lemonade) and our time was up. CutLuce, Miss Jo and some others decided to go back to one of their homes and continue the night's festivities, so I was relieved of my chauffeuring duties. DesignerSis and her sister-out-law walked back to my car with me and I drove them to a location where they could flag a cab home. I was suddenly a little glad that I was driving. Cabs on a Saturday night can be hard to come by. Here endeth Lesson Four.
The drive home was 'eventful'. As I left the City and got into the 'burbs nearer home, I nearly ran down two very drunk guys who suddenly ran out across the road, leaving a brothel on one side and heading to a pub on the other. A large crowd of men were gathered on either side of the road -- either cheering them on or trying to pick a fight, I am not sure which. A few blocks further along, I saw a large crowd of drunken teenagers hanging around out the front of a non-descript shop front. Not sure what kind of party had been going on in there, but there were teenagers everywhere fighting, dancing, snogging and nearly falling onto the road. The drive home was really quite scary and I suddenly got a real sense of what police are talking about in recent media coverage of alcohol-related violence in the City at night.
I arrived home about 1.10 pm and found DeepSpice was still up, watching some old war movie whilst making his guitar effects pedals. Once in bed, I was too wired up to go straight to sleep (probably all that sugary soft drink), so I read for a while and then lay in the dark tossing and turning till about 3 am when I finally drifted off. I was awake again at 5.30 am when BallFiend started crying out for his dummy. Thankfully DeepSpice attended to this so I was able to sleep a bit more. Sometime around 7.30 am, BallFiend woke up and once again DeepSpice did the hard yards, getting BallFiend up, fed, dressed and keeping him entertained until I staggered out of bed at about 9.30 am.
Sunday was a complete write-off as I was too tired to do anything. I napped again at about 11.30 am, then again at about 3 pm. Finally around 5 pm I started to feel a bit more 'with it' and managed to stay up for dinner and a little TV before going to bed again.
Next weekend is the Bucks Night for DesignerMonkey. I can only hope that DeepSpice has a less exhausting time of it than my experience... though I suppose not being pregnant will be a bonus.
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